


Daddy!Steve

by Matchgirl42



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Giving Birth, One Shot, Steve Rogers becomes a father, all the feels, generalized terms, not terribly graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3319760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matchgirl42/pseuds/Matchgirl42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Roger's wife gives birth.  Enjoy, and mind the feels/hormones/ovaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy!Steve

He still couldn’t believe how quickly the whole thing had started. A shocked cry of pain, his wife doubled over, breathing through her teeth as she clung to him with hands turned into steel claws. He had agreed to go to Lamaze class with her – and golly had that opened his eyes to the whole process – but nothing in it had prepared him for the startling reality. “Breathe” he had told her. She had whipped her head up and glared at him. “STEVE. Call. An. Ambulance. _NOW.”_ she had hissed out through gritted teeth.

He had freed one hand and grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket (handy things, these phones without wires) and called, and then tried to keep both her and himself calm while they waited the agonizing 10 minutes for the ambulance to arrive. He was always eerily calm during missions, always in control, but this he could not control. And it frightened him. It frightened him that there was nothing more he could do to help his wife except be there and talk to her in soothing tones as her skin turned progressively whiter and whiter.

They had bundled her into the ambulance, and good thing they allowed him in the ambulance along with her because she was _not_ letting go of the death grip she had on his shirt with one hand. The ride to the hospital was both surprisingly short and horribly long, with his wife’s fingers never releasing his shirt. When they reached the hospital, they wheeled her into and then straight through the ER and up to the maternity ward.

Then he got to stay in the room with her _and boy was that still a shock_ but he was glad as they hooked her up to all sorts of monitors and checked on her and the babies. All were doing fine, especially his wife after they gave her what they now called an epidural (and he had made the doctor explain that one, his protective instincts had kicked in until the doctor had explained that it was a very safe procedure that would make it so that his wife wouldn’t feel any pain, and his wife had surprised them all by reaching out with her other hand and grabbing the doctor’s coat and screaming “do it make the pain stop OH GOD MAKE THE PAIN STOP.”).

And Nat and Fury and Sam had all come at once when his wife had finally relaxed as the medication took hold and released his shirt and he had called to tell them the news. Then the rest of the gang had shown up and Nat kept giving him reports of the impromptu party going on in the waiting room and how close they had gotten to having the hospital staff kick them out until Pepper had taken Tony aside and whispered something in his ear and he had turned red and stopped trying to goad Bruce.

And then it was time and the doctor told his wife to push and his heart nearly burst from watching his wife go through that and he prayed Oh God please let me bear this struggle for her. I am so much stronger than her and I know she’s not in pain anymore but she is my wife and I want to protect her and shelter her and please God give her my strength just this once. And she had a death grip on both his hands this time and she strained and pushed and breathed, and then the doctor said “It’s a boy!” And he went still with shock and joy and barely managed to stutter out, “It’s…it’s a boy?”

And the doctor placed the baby on his wife’s stomach and the baby’s sibling – still in the womb – pressed it’s hand through her stomach as if to grab the tiny waving hand. And his wife had reached out and tenderly cradled him, this beautiful miracle – _their son_ – and smiled up at him. “Congratulations, Daddy.” And he suddenly couldn’t see through the tears…

And then the nurse was taking the baby away to get him cleaned up and swaddled, and his wife’s face was once again taking on that far away look, and the doctor said, “time for the next one!” And 15 minutes later the doctor said “It’s a girl!” and laid another beautiful miracle on his wife’s stomach. And his wife had tenderly cradled this one too, and smiled up at him again. And he had reached down and caressed his wife’s hair, planting a kiss on her forehead and then her lips. “Congratulations, Mommy,” he had whispered to her, and she had laughed in delight.

And Nat had brought the news out to the waiting room, then the news back that the gang had just gotten themselves kicked out of the waiting room (apparently Thor had smashed a vase against the wall in celebration) and they would be at Stark Tower if and when he needed them, and that they all said congratulations and best wishes, and had sent a huge cart of flowers that as she spoke was being delivered to and set up around their recovery room.

And after a short wait as they got his wife cleaned up and she fell into a deep, contented sleep, they wheeled her and their babies to that recovery room, and the smell and color of so many flower arrangements arranged on every available surface (and some placed on the floor) was almost overwhelming. But then they set him up in the guest chair with the two bassinets wheeled in front of him, and he couldn’t take his eyes off his children. _His children._

Back in the war he had never thought he would actually see this day, and then he had lost Peggy and all hope had died of ever having this experience. But then he had met her, the beautiful woman who had agreed to become his wife. And who then had told him, excitement painting her cheeks pink, that he was going to be a father. And then they had both stared in joyous disbelief as the sonogram technician had told them they were having twins. _Twins._

He reached out and gently picked up his baby girl, and she wiggled a bit in his arms, one small arm thrusting out of the blankets and grabbing on to his shirt with a death grip just like her mother’s as he settled her into the crook of his arm. The nurse gently picked up his son and placed him in Steve’s other arm, the boy hardly stirring except to form an _o_ with his mouth as he yawned.

He was staring down at them in wonder, a strange new fear stirring at the base of his spine – _I’m a father. I’m a_ _ **father –**_ when he heard his wife stirring on the bed. Carefully – so carefully his jaw tightened with the strain – he got up and carried the babies over to the bed as his wife opened her eyes.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispered.

“Hello, handsome,” she whispered back. “How are they doing?”

“They are -” His throat closed, the emotions almost overwhelming, and he had to cough to clear it. “They are _perfect._ ”

His wife reached out and gently took their son, settling him in the crook of her arm, then he reached down and gently placed their daughter in her other arm. She looked down at them for a long moment, then looked up at him. “Oh Steve, they _are_ perfect. And they have your eyes. Your beautiful eyes.”


End file.
